Saturday, 18 October 2014

Still life


This is the view when Our Man ventures from the bunker. It's his neighbour's house, perched precariously on the side of the same steep hill as Our Man's. There's something about how the houses in this neighbourhood are carved into postage-stamp, gravity-defying plots that just makes you want to fist pump in the air and proclaim your independence from all those pesky Laws of Nature and Common Sense and such that we hear are so important.

BTW, you may be wondering why Our Man has shut up about politics and become quite the boring non-satirical online recluse who is into watercolours (of all the semi-retired things forchristsakes). Or maybe you're not, but no matter, he'll tell you anyway. He's taking a leaf out of the Kate Bush PR handbook. That is, he's realised it's better to shut up until you have something worth saying. Our Man has nothing to say just right now, so he'll shut his cake hole. Radical, Our Man knows.

But he will return. Like Caesar or MacArthur. Or herpes.

Anyway, in the meantime, enjoy the (pretty?) pictures.

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